


I Want To Love But It Comes Out Wrong

by voodoogypsyeyes



Series: Soulless Train [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dark Sam Winchester, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, POV both, Soulless Sam Winchester, tw rape, tw suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 02:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoogypsyeyes/pseuds/voodoogypsyeyes
Summary: The consequences of soulless incestuous pining.





	I Want To Love But It Comes Out Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural or its characters. Thank you to those who read/kudosed/reviewed [Sometimes I'm Thinking That I Love You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724812) \- this is the aftermath of that fic so please read that one first, but be warned that it has noncon in it. No noncon in here but there is discussion of noncon. Please feed me back! I hunger for your kudos and comments!

Dean remembered Sam raping him.

He remembered his soulless brother fading in and out of sight above him as Dean fought for consciousness and control over his body, fought against whatever the fuck Sam had put in the whiskey he'd poured for Dean.

Dean remembered crying, and he remembered Sam smiling.

Worst of all, he remembered enjoying the feeling of Sam's cock inside him as Sam raped him.

It had hurt, in every sense of the word, there was no denying that. But there was also no denying what else Dean had felt while being fucked by Sam. But Dean tried, good god, how he tried to deny it, tried to deny that any of it had even happened at all.

Told himself that it was alien mind fuckery and hey maybe the aliens made him see his brother raping him, who fucking knows, crafty fucking aliens, they'd be capable of that. Or fairies. Whatever the hell had taken him. Because his brother, soul or no, would _never fucking rape him_. Not Sam. Sam didn't have it in him. Sam loved him. Even soulless, there was something still in Sam that loved Dean.

He believed in that because he had to, and he pushed away that image of Sam smiling cruelly above him, and he lied to himself masterfully until the day Sam told him that he remembered too.

Sam had gotten his soul back and all had seemed well, until that town in Rhode Island where the dam in Sam's mind sprung a leak. Leaking memories of the horror that had been inflicted on and committed by Sam.

"I never forgot it," whispered Sam with the barrel of his gun at his temple. This is what Dean had walked into Bobby's living room to find. Sam, eyes glazed with tears, standing in the middle of the room and aiming a gun at his own head. His finger had tightened on the trigger when Dean tried to get him to lower the gun. _I raped you, Dean._

"I saw flashes of it when I touched you," said Sam brokenly. "More of it each time. I tried not to touch you."

"Sam..."

"After I passed out in Rhode Island, I woke up in your arms and I remembered it all." More tears leaked from Sam's eyes. He swallowed hard before speaking again. "I remembered what I was going to do to you after killing Bobby."

Dean swallowed too. Bobby was out on a case and thank god for that. Or he _said_ he was on a case - just as likely he was trying to avoid his would-be murderer.

"I wasn't going to kill you, Dean," said Sam. "What I was going to do was so much worse."

Dean didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to hear. "Sam, just put the gun down, _please_."

To his surprise, Sam did as he asked. Let the hand gripping the gun fall to his side. But his finger didn't leave the trigger, and the look in his eyes was no comfort to Dean.

"I'm a coward." Sam's voice and hands were shaking. His tears fell to the floor and his eyes fell from Dean's. Dean tried to slow the racing of his heart as he stepped closer to Sam. Sam had put the gun down at Dean's request - maybe he'd hand it over if Dean asked that too.

"You're not a coward, Sammy," Dean whispered, trying to catch Sam's eyes with his. "I know that better than anyone."

"You don't, Dean," Sam replied coldly, and his eyes raised to meet Dean's as he said: "I was going to knock you out, strap you to the bed in the panic room and keep raping you."

Dean's heart seized up in his chest. Bile rose within him. He saw his soulless brother in front of him again. On top of him. Cold and smiling.

"That's what my body was going to do to you," said Sam. "Instead of telling you that I love you, I took away your ability to fight back and I forced myself on you, and I was gonna keep on doing it." Sam looked as sick and horrified as Dean felt. "I was going to kill Bobby, the only man who's ever been a father to us, because I didn't want to see what my soul had faced in Hell.

"I got my soul back and I remembered what I did to you, but I said nothing." Sam's voice became smaller with each word he spoke, shrinking away inside his chest. "Just... just fucking worked jobs with you, pretended like I hadn't... fuck, Dean, the pretending is even worse."

Dean's tears joined Sam's on Bobby's living room rug. He steeled himself and moved closer to Sam again. "Sam... give me the gun, okay? We can talk about this."

Sam's watery eyes blinked at him before lowering to the gun in his hand.

"Too much of a coward to take myself out," Sam whispered at the gun, taking it in both hands, contemplating the death that it promised. "Too chickenshit to throw myself back down into Hell where I belong."

Slowly, he held the gun out to Dean.

"Please, Dean... I want you to do it."

Dean simply stood there, speechless and motionless. He stared helplessly up at Sam.

"I want you to." Sam's soft voice broke over his words. "Please, D."

Dean stared down at the gun. He took it out of Sam's hands, which fell shaking to Sam's sides, and Dean looked up to see gratitude lightening the sorrow in Sam's face.

He saw love shining in Sam's eyes.

He opened the gun's chamber and took out the bullets, throwing them to one side while throwing the unloaded gun to the other side. He took his own gun out of his belt, doing the same with it, his empty gun clattering against Sam's. It was Sam's turn to stand there like a deer in headlights, staring at Dean.

"I'm not killing you, Sammy," said Dean forcefully. "I'm not letting you kill yourself either."

Sam's eyes fell shut. "D..."

His eyes flicked back open when Dean's hand cupped his face.

"I never told you that I love you either," Dean breathed, eyes fixed on Sam's, brushing Sam's tears away. Sam shook out of Dean's grasp.

"No," said Sam. "Please. _Please_, Dean, you have to... I can't live with what I did."

"What your _body_ did, Sammy, not your heart. Not this." Dean's hand pressed to Sam's chest, pressed Sam's black V-neck shirt against the skin that his and Dean's tattoo was inscribed upon, warmth traveling between the Winchesters.

"But it _was_ this body, Dean," Sam argued as he pushed Dean's hand away. "My body raped you. My body was going to keep raping you. Was going to take what it always wanted from you."

Dean was silent for a few moments, processing Sam's words and his own thoughts.

"You talk like your heart doesn't matter," said Dean softly, his eyes on Sam's chest. "Haven't I taught you that it's all that matters?"

He looked up at Sam, a smile briefly lighting his face when he saw his beloved Sammy, the man who loved him, looking back.

"Your soul didn't want what your body did. You know how I know? Because, right now, with your soul, you would not do what you did before. Tell me I'm wrong, Sam."

Sam said nothing but Dean read the answer in Sam's eyes. _Never._

"That's why I stuck with you," murmured Dean, moving closer. Holding Sam's face in both hands. "That's why I'll always stick with you, Sammy."

Both brothers shook hard as Dean tilted Sam's face down.

"It's your heart that I want," Dean whispered at Sam's lips before kissing them.

A _real_ kiss this time. Dean's fingers dug into Sam's hair and held him there; he moaned quietly into Sam's mouth and Sam echoed it, mouth opening to invite Dean's tongue in.

Sam broke the kiss with a sob.

"This... this is how it should have been," Sam cried softly.

"This is how it _is_," said Dean, pushing strands of Sam's hair off his wet face. "This is how it _will be_. That's all that matters."

"But the man who raped you... was _me_. Not some other person. _Me_, Dean. The part of me that raped you is still a part of me."

"But it's not in charge of you anymore," said Dean as he pulled Sam closer again, "and I want you to show that fucker who's boss."

Sam laughed and he sobbed and he leaned in to kiss Dean again, hand coming up to cup the back of Dean's head as he kissed his brother as lovingly as he deserved to be kissed, Sam's other hand sliding up Dean's spine over the fabric of his shirt and undershirt.

Dean walked them over to Bobby's desk and pressed Sam against it, kissing him deep and hungry. Sam groaned as Dean's mouth moved down his jaw onto his neck, kissing him just as deeply there, bruising Sam with it.

Dean kissed away Sam's tears where they'd slid down Sam's throat, kissed the top of Sam's tattoo where it emerged from the neck of his shirt. Dean hesitated before slipping one hand under the hem of Sam's shirt to brush against the heat of Sam's belly.

Sam stopped him when his hand drifted down past Sam's belt.

Dean's heart was pounding madly and so was Sam's, heartbeat wild under Dean's lips. Dean didn't lift his face from where it was pressed into Sam's neck. He tried to calm himself.

Sam gave Dean a kiss so achingly soft and sweet at his temple before laying his lips against Dean's ear.

"Maybe... maybe we can do that later," whispered Sam, "but... for now, can I... I just want to do something for you. I- I didn't get to do that."

He fought for each word as hard as Dean fought to keep his memories of the rape at bay.

Sam's hand tentatively slid around Dean's body so that his fingers could trace the shape of Dean's cock through the jeans Dean wore. Sam hesitated before squeezing it gently, drawing a soft grunt out of Dean and making him twitch with desire.

Sam turned them around, Dean against the desk. He worshipped Dean's lips with his own and continued to gently stroke Dean through his jeans while Dean softly groaned into his mouth. Dean pulled off his own shirt as Sam pulled up the hem of Dean's undershirt and helped him get rid of that too.

Sam's hands came up to worship Dean's body. One of Dean's hands tipped Sam's face up and Sam let Dean hold him there like that for a minute, just gazing into his eyes, petting Sam's face.

"My Sammy," Dean whispered, heavy with emotion. Sam leaned into him, nose lined up against Dean's.

"Yours, D," Sam whispered back. He kissed Dean's lips as he traced the lines of Dean's tattoo.

He leaned down to press his lips to those warm black lines that radiated out from Dean's heart and Dean moaned quietly as his fingers coiled in Sam's hair. Sam kissed Dean's tattoo again and again to hear Dean moan like that, to feel Dean pull him closer.

Then he moved down to lick at Dean's nipple. He had done this briefly when he'd been soulless, but without the intention of giving Dean pleasure, which was his sole intention now. He teased at Dean's nipple with his tongue, wet it and let his saliva cool on Dean's skin before sucking it into the heat of his mouth, and he gave Dean's other nipple the same treatment, sucking hard until Dean was growling with want.

There was something else Sam had done briefly to Dean when he'd been soulless, something he desperately wanted to do more of. He leaned back up so that his mouth was against Dean's ear again.

"I wanna suck your cock, Dean."

Dean groaned at the mere words. "What the fuck are you waiting for then," he muttered, and the Winchesters grinned at each other as Sam sank to his knees in front of Dean.

Sam opened his mouth around the shape of Dean's dick where it bulged in his jeans, the heat and damp of his mouth seeping into the fabric. He licked at the straining denim, making Dean groan low.

"Tell me," Sam breathed up at him as he kissed the line of Dean's cock. "Tell me what to do, D, I wanna hear you."

_Wanna know that you want me, wanna hear how bad._

"Take my dick out," Dean rumbled at him. He sighed with relief and pleasure when Sam did as he was told, opening Dean's fly and pulling him out. Sam couldn't resist squeezing Dean's naked dick, feeling it throb in his grip.

"What else," said Sam, his breath caressing the wet head of Dean's cock.

Dean remembered the fleeting feel of Sam's tongue on his cock.

"Lick it," he ordered. "Want your tongue all over my cock, Sammy. Want you to show me how bad you want it."

Sam moaned as he leaned in to lick at the underside of Dean's dick, drawing his tongue up from Dean's sack, along the ridge underneath. He traced each vein with his tongue, sending more blood into Dean's member. When Dean was fully hard, precome dribbling from his slit, Sam swiped his tongue over it, licked it clean. Licked it over and over until Dean was whimpering with hunger.

He pushed Sam away and pushed his jeans and boxers down to his thighs. He clamped his hand around the base of his throbbing cock. "So fucking hard for you," he growled down at Sam. Sam's eyes glowed hungrily up at him and Dean knew just how mutual the feeling was. "All for you, Sammy."

"_Dean_," groaned Sam, pressing his hand down on the bulge in his own jeans. Licking Dean's precome off his lips. Down on his knees in submission.

"Suck my cock," Dean commanded him. Sam leaned forward, licked once more at the tip slowly, and shut his eyes as he sucked the head of Dean's dick into his mouth - but Dean gripped his hair and yanked his head back.

"Eyes open, baby brother," he murmured as his fingers sifted through Sam's dark locks. And he watched, their eyes connected, heated, as Sam took Dean deep into his mouth.

Dean gripped the edge of the desk with one hand and Sam's head with the other as Sam began to slide back and forth. Dean fell into the movement, hips pushing him deeper into Sam's sinful heat. Sam's tongue swirled around the thickness of him, slipped into Dean's slit when he drew back - his darkened hazel eyes fixed on Dean's, drinking in the sight of Dean's pleasure.

Dean watched Sam's eyes tear up as his throat opened around Dean. He groaned as a hand slid under his balls and squeezed them. Sam took Dean into his throat, deeper and deeper, massaging his balls as they tightened, as Dean was brought closer and closer to the edge.

A finger, slicked with precome and saliva, slipped behind Dean's heavy balls, trailing wet along his perineum - it began to massage him there too, pressing into his prostate from outside his body. Dean closed his eyes and moaned desperately, unable to hold on any longer.

He thrust deep into Sam's throat, his balls twitching in Sam's hand, his fingers curled tight in Sam's hair, his whole body shuddering as he came, and Sammy drank him down, milked it out of him until Dean was whimpering again.

Sam pulled back and kissed the trail of light, downy hair that led from Dean's navel to his cock. He took Dean's hands and gently pulled Dean down to sit on the floor beside him. Dean sat there with his eyes still shut, head tipped back, panting softly.

Then he opened his eyes and turned to Sam.

"Not bad, bitch."

Sam laughed huskily. "Thanks, jerk."

Dean's eyes lowered to the tent in Sam's jeans. He looked questioningly back up at Sam, who smiled and shook his head.

"Don't," said Sam. "This is all I want right now."

Dean leaned over and kissed Sam, tasting himself on Sam's tongue. He looked into Sam's eyes afterward.

"You're not gonna get away with that forever, you know."

"I know," agreed Sam. "We'll get there, Dean."

"As long as you quit asking me to kill you, jackass," Dean muttered with a smile in his eyes. "You know I love you too much to ever consider it."

Dean's words resounded with the love in Sam's heart, the love that was woven into every fiber of Sam's being, and he laughed as he wondered how he could ever have been so ignorant to it.


End file.
